


Revelation

by trr_rr



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Amputation, Blood, Body Horror, Bugs & Insects, Dark, Dogs, Gore, Graphic Description, Gross, M/M, Muteness, Pain, wing fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 12:47:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6239980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trr_rr/pseuds/trr_rr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will finds a person of interest while out walking the dogs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revelation

If you took the second left after the turning to Will Graham's home in Wolf Trap you would find yourself on a long dry road that would lead you right through the trees and on until you reached Barne's lake. Will enjoyed trailing the lake's banks, he often found washed up natural detritus. Bright shell casings, fragments of bone and odd feather's were brushed off and stuffed into his not-so-clean jacket pocket for use in his ever growing fly collection.

Further still were stippled fields of brash and long harvested crops. Dried stems protruded from the infertile ground. Will had had a time pulling some sharp pieces from Zoe's mouth last autumn that had become lodged in there during a tumble. He'd winced at the blood and he apologized for the pain it had caused her to pull the pieces from the roof of her mouth. He tucked her into his jacket and didn't let her down until they had all reached home that evening.

It was bright and the dogs trotted through the fields. Some were on patrol, others sniffed and pissed wherever seemed appropriate. Winter had passed but there was still a snap in the air. There would be no more snow.

Will had, on this walk, taken up an old dry branch. His gloved fingers felt right wrapped around the crooked top of it. His cheeks pinked in the chilly air and he panted as he strode. His woolen hat had become damp with sweat. He removed it, shoving it in a clean pocket and unzipping his puffy coat a little.

By chance, Will had stopped to rest. He stood at the rise of a hill, looking back over towards Wolf Trap creek.

“Ready for home, guys or should we keep going?”

The dogs never answered one way or the other and Will enjoyed their blind faith immensely.

Over his shoulder Will heard an odd rustling and flapping like a flag in the wind. He turned and raised his hand to shield his eyes from the sun. He caught a glimpse of bird legs and feathers crashing gracelessly to earth.

The dogs were called back but Buster wanted to prove himself the bravest. He shot off ahead towards the hedges that divided the two fields.

“Hey! Tst, Buster. C'mere.”

Buster went over on his belly to beg forgiveness and Will rolled his eyes. He hoisted the chubby terrier under one arm. Will made his way over to see if there was any saving the bird.

He expected some type of large owl, the wing span had looked hefty and strong. Will assumed a run in with a telephone wire had left the poor thing dazed. Something had to be wrong for an owl to be out during the day like that. Or maybe it was a pelican, big wings took damage easily.

Will wasn't sure what he saw laying there when he reached the next field.

Huge wings, bigger than any he'd seen in ornithological books were limp and battered on the sandy ground. As he approached he could scarce believe what he was seeing. Two bare human feet protruded from the feathers. Will could see one hand that grasped the ground but the rest of this person was shielded by the impossible feathers.

They were beautiful. Silvery ashen affairs with dark roots and grayed tips. Will was reminded of a Cooper's hawk. His mind supplied orange attentive eyes and a striped tail of black and ash.

“Uh.” Words failed him.

The man on the ground made a pained groan and the feathers fluttered and quivered around him.

“Hello? Sir? Uh, sir?”

Buster had began to drool and shiver in his arms and Will let him down. Not one to shy from danger, Buster ran circles around the figure in a heap, tail wagging and ears at attention. Ellie, the little curly haired mutt, took to shoving her wet nose under a wing and Will averted his eyes as it rose and revealed a man completely naked in the dirt.

“Oh, God, here.” Will stripped his own coat and dropped it over the man's body.

He did indeed look dazed. He pushed up from the ground only to over balance himself and stumble back into the mud.

“Hey, careful. Hey.” Will warned but he held up his makeshift walking stick, wary that this was going to be one of those hallucinations that could do him some harm. “I don't know what's going on here but you need to stay still for a second, ok?”

Will put a hand over his eyes and steadied his breath. He opened his eyes again but the man with wings was still there. He sat now on his bear ass in the field, clutching at Will's coat as the dogs sniffed at him.

“Are you going to talk?” Will asked.

At that point he noticed the angle of the wings looked all wrong. They were jointed in a very unnatural looking way and when he got closer, Will could see bones sticking up at sickening angles through his skin. Many of the feathers were bent or broken. Some were soaked with fresh blood and the man flinched when Will tentatively reached out to examine some of them.

“Ok.” He sighed. “I guess you'll be coming back with me then.”

Will felt bad making him walk with nothing on his feet but what could he do? _He'd just found an angel fallen from the sky._ There were really no codes or guides for this type of experience.

They had to stop several times on the track home for the man to gather himself. Will was beyond fascinated and stared openly at the structure of his wings. They connected to the man's back at the shoulder blades but there were painful looking bruises where they met. Will wanted to look closer but he would wait until they got home.

“Alright, come on inside.” Will beckoned when the man hesitated on the porch. “It's ok. Come on.”

Will had to gently coax with a hand on the man's arm to get him through the door.

After lighting a fire in the living room and placing his guest before it he went ahead to see to the dogs in some soft of trance.

The dogs ate their dinner with enthusiasm as always and Will was happy to let them be. He found the winged man where he had left him, staring with intent at the mirror above the mantle.

“You ok? I'm going to have to take a look at those, uh, wings. You should sit down.”

He could see the man's pale face in the mirror. Dark eyes under a mess of dark brown hair with silver streaking gently through it.

He turned as if to address Will for the first time but wobbled uneasily on his filthy feet.

“Careful, hey, sit down. Hey!”

Will had seen many people pass out for many reasons. Blood loss, fright and too much alcohol being the chief causes but to watch this angel fall and hear it's wings crack against the wood from just seeing his own reflection had to be the most traumatic by far.

The bed in the lounge was the only place large enough for Will to lay the man out and have a good look at his wings. Will put him in a pair of ill fitting sweat pants for dignity's sake.

Will had cared for birds before. He had nursed a pigeon that had smacked straight into his window and almost snapped it's neck. He kept it in a box by the furnace in the basement until it's lame wing recovered. He released it after a few months of care and never saw it again.

Looking at the splendid spread of feathers before him now, he was out of his depth. The first aid kit sat on his lap and he set about disinfecting the deepest wounds. Soaking cotton balls in iodine and swabbing at the dirty gashes was all that came to mind. He was fairly revolted when he found the ripe looking flesh give way like wet tissue to rotting meat underneath.

He was thankful for his strong constitution and familiarity with decomposition when he unearthed an ugly sore and upon accidentally disturbing it, caused an odious yellow fluid to trickle down his wrist.

He was glad he had decided to wear latex gloves for the procedure.

The rate at which the wings were deteriorating defied all that Will knew about bodily process. Bunch after bunch of feathers fell to the sheets with the slightest tug. Will lifted one to the light and was awed by it's beauty. Strong, sleek and sharp. Will was impressed by all of natures efforts to improve and survive.

Will didn't want to admit he was fighting a losing battle. He did the best he could with the superficial wounds but the snaps of brittle hollow bone could not be repaired so easily. He bound the wings tightly with bandage and arranged the sleeping man as comfortably as he could.

Will cleaned up and took his seat by the bed. Perhaps he would wake up in the morning to find this all had been a dream. He hoped this was all his minds construction and as Zoe laid down by his feet he dozed lightly in the soft orange light of the bedside lamp.

Upon waking the next morning Will realized this was perhaps not going to be as easy and forgettable as a dream.

Pained wailing and heaving brought him into full wakefulness like hitting the surface of a lake. He was up and out of his chair to witness the winged man tear at his bandages and fall clean off the bed in a pitiful heap.

“Shit.” Will murdered.

“Shit.” The winged man replied.

Will rounded the bed and found Winston licking tears that ran down the man's face. He clutched to the dog's fur, face fevered and legs trembling.

Will's ears picked up the rain that started to come down outside. Drops tapped at the window pane as he leant forward to heave the man back into bed.

“You have to stay on the bed. I think you are very sick.” He pronounced each word with care. “Do you understand?”

The man's eyelids drooped and as he collapsed back onto the bed Will was appalled by the monstrous mess of slimy filth clinging to his bandaged wings.

“We gotta get you into the shower. What is all this stuff?”

He wiped his hands off on his jeans and wrapped the man in a blanket from the sofa. He took as much weight as he could but it was a slow and arduous struggle to get the man upstairs to the bathroom.

Will sat him down in the tub and didn't bother to remove his pants. He unwound the bandages and pushed the man to lean forward. Will started up the shower. He made sure the water was only lukewarm before aiming the spray at the two bony protrusions.

Firstly, Will saw feathers begin to shed into the tub. He caught as many as he could, sticky handfuls were dumped into the sink. He drew his hand away from the water when it started to run milky and yellow.

To his disbelief, Will saw the larvae of flies and beetles wriggling for their lives as they were washed down the drain. He was sure he had all the windows in the house shut tight. How could anything have gotten inside to burrow under the man's skin?

Then, when bald patches became apparent, Will saw more of the foul boils and sores he'd witnessed the previous night. The pressure of the water's spray made them burst and swell. Thick yellow puss oozed down the poor man's back. One wing gave a great spasm and Will found he was enraptured by the disgusting spectacle of the creatures suffering.

These surface wounds were an indication that something terrible was happening inside the impossible feathered appendages. Most worrying of all was the dry, black appearance of the skin where the man's feathers joined to his back.

Will had seen this before and he knew there was a name for it. He was saddened to admit that there was nothing further that could be done.

“Hey. Hey, I need to talk to you.” Will turned off the shower and rested the man back as easy as he could.

He wiped the hair from his face and sighed heavily.

“Can you understand me? Yes?”

“Yes.” The man croaked dryly.

“Ok, listen. You've got an infection. A bad one. Are you in a lot of pain?”

“Yes.” The man nodded and tears welled in his eyes.

“You've got gangrene. I don't know why it's come on so fast but I don't know much about anything right now. I do know however that of this infection spreads you will die. Soon.”

He hefted his belt up a little and looked around the room. It was a mess of feathers and filth. Blood and scum clung to the sides of the bath. The dogs hadn't dared come near, they could smell sickness and knew to stay away.

“They need to come off. Ok?” He spoke with an understanding, as though they were striking a deal. “Now if this was a situation with an arm or a leg I'd rush you straight to the hospital and they could do a nice clean job of it. But this isn't an arm or a leg. You've got wings.”

Will shook his head and felt hysterical laughter bubble in his belly.

“I have to saw off an angel's wings.” He chuckled.

The man didn't find any humour in the situation. He frowned down at his hands and gave Will the sorriest puppy dog eyes he'd ever seen. “Yes?”

“Look, there's nothing I can do. Nothing. You know how long you have to be dead before your skin starts melting away like that? At least a week, I'd say, in a hot climate. Usually insect life won't lay in gone off tissue until stinks to high heaven.”

He rubbed at his neck, considering.

“All I can do is fill you with whiskey till you pass out again and, and take the saw to them. It'll take me some time, your bones are going to put up a fight but I can cauterize the wounds and have you infection free in a week or so. I just don't have the means to cut out all this fucked up rot.”

Will waited for consent, any signs that the angel in his bath tub had understood what he'd said but there were none.

“I don't think there's anything here worth saving.” He admitted. “I'm sorry.”

“Yes.” The man repeated. Will was starting to think he had no idea what that word meant. His accent was strange and the way he formed words was off putting. It was as though the sounds were coming from an organ that had no familiarity with human speech.

“Where did you come from?” Will pondered as he watched the man's fever flushed face.

Downstairs, after much struggle, Will had the man propped on a kitchen chair. He was outside preparing for some time before he came back to see to his sickly guest.

“Ok.” He huffed with determination and put down two glasses on the table with a bang. “We need to get this whole bottle in you.”

Will filled both tumblers and downed his own in one pull. He gestured for the angel to do the same. Will watched him lift the glass to his lips and grimace in disgust.

“Drink.” Will braced his hands on the table and menaced the man across from him with the meanest look he could muster.

The whiskey was gulped down with a whine followed by a series of burning coughs.

The rest of the bottle was easier after the initial burn numbed the man's throat and he was soon swaying in place.

“Ok. This is going to happen outside. I've got a fire going under the cover round by the shed and there's two hot irons waiting to staunch the bleeding.” Will sniffed. “The saw have been disinfected and we have to do this now.”

The angel blinked slowly and struggled to keep his head up.

Two things went wrong during the grisly procedure.

The first mistake was not wearing any protective clothing. Will got blood and fatty puss all up his bare arms and some even sprayed across his face. He managed not to vomit on his patient but he did make a mess of all over one of the budding evergreen shrubs.

The second mistake, and perhaps the worse of the two, was that he hadn't estimated the amount of alcohol it took to knock an angel out.

The first wing was off and laying weirdly in the grass. The wound was burnt cleanly and just needed to air for a while. The saw blade was doing a fine job of the second wing and Will was almost half way through then the poor soul started to twitch.

Will had panicked, rather than wait to see what would happen he made the instant decision to smack the guy on the back of the head with the handle of the saw.

Problem solved, he continued with his sickening task. God knows what waking to that sort of pain could do to a person. Will knew he never wanted to find out.

The next few cautious days crept along. Will emailed paper work to Jack and thanked his stars that no new cases arose. Classwork kept him busy but he never strayed far from the bed where his fallen angel lay healing.

On the third day Will gently inspected the wounds on the man's back and was astonished to find them healed almost completely. What had been rough blisters and scorch marks now resembled only two wide, scarred stumps. They were red and sore looking but considering Will had removed two limbs from his body with a saw, it was impossible for anyone to have naturally healed so effectively.

A loud snort filled the room and Will leaned back. The man on the bed shuddered and turn over slowly.

“Hi.” Will spoke softly. “How are you feeling?”

The man shifted out of the bed and stood still with a curious look on his face. He clutched at his lower belly as a large dark patch started to appear in the front of his borrowed sweat pants.

“Oh- God, uh, it's ok. Uh, upstairs!”

Will couldn't exactly be mad at the guy. He was sick. Though he did think it was weird that he hadn't pissed or shit the bed the entire time he'd been laying in his house. Will had even made a make shift bedpan out of a baking tray and a plastic bag but to his relief there had been no use for it.

He put down a towel to soak up the wet patch and guided his guest upstairs.

“There. Into the tub, that's right. You remember the tub.”

During their time together, Will had grown to feel responsible for what he had done. Ripping the gift of flight from an alien being was something that would rest with him forever. He had so many questions but right now he was taking down a sick man's pants so he could take a shower.

“There you go. Now I'm gonna turn on the shower. You just stay still and let the water do the work.”

Will waited till the water ran warm before giving the man a push under the shower.

He gasped and wiped the water from his face before getting the hang of it and putting his head back.

“That's it. Feels nice, huh?”

Will had never watched another man shower. He'd shared locker rooms in the academy and he'd used the YMCA gym a few times back home but never on a one to one basis. He watched the water run paths down the man's body. It rippled over his chest and down his back. It caught on his leg hair and the room filled with the smell of salty skin and dirty hair.

As always, the sound of running water stimulated Will's bladder into action. He lifted the toilet lid and sighed as he took care of business.

Two dark eyes took notice and Will had to pretend he didn't feel a little creeped out by the attention. He whistled a tune and looked the other way while he shook himself off and zipped back up.

“All done?” He asked with a smile. “Ready to eat something maybe?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Will laughed and brought over a towel.

“So you can talk now, huh?”

“I think, yes.”

The sound of the man's voice was unearthly. Will couldn't place the accent at all. His mouth formed the noises with lazy sensuality, like he was letting the words pass from his body with pleasure.

“Careful, don't slip. I'll get you something to wear. Just sit on the edge there. That's it.”

Will found an over sized sleep shirt and a pair of quarter length shorts. The shirt bulged out in the back where wing stumps moved with phantom memory.

When he'd helped dress the man he rubbed the towel all around his head and couldn't help himself.

“Listen. I have to ask you something.”

“Yes?”

“Are you an angel?”

“I was.”

“But you're not any more.”

“No.”

“What's your name?”

“Hannibal.”

“Hannibal?”

“Yes.”

“Where did you come from? Do you remember?”

“Where do you think I've come from?”

“If you say Heaven I'm going to drag you back out to that field where I found you and leave you there.”

“I don't want you to do that.”

“Fuck.” Will dragged his hands down his face and paced the bathroom a few times. “I mean, I don't know what I was expecting you to say but- God damn.”

“You shouldn't blaspheme.”

“Fuck you.”

They spoke very little for the rest of the day. Will went about his chores and Hannibal followed. When the laundry was done and Will was piling it into the dryer Hannibal was there, in the corner of the basement, watching. When Will took out the garbage Hannibal followed him in bare feet and back into the house again.

Will ate very little. He fed the dogs twice a day and was curious as to Hannibal's eating habits.

The dogs bowls were placed down on the floor at dinner time and Will could hear Hannibal's stomach growl angrily.

“Hungry?” Will asked flatly.

“I don't know.”

“How can you not know?”

“I've never eaten.”

“What do you mean?”

“I've not had a body like this before.”

Will took a breath and sat down on one of his kitchen chairs.

“We need to talk. I need to know everything you can remember about where you were before this. Before I found you. Come, sit down.”

Will kicked out the chair that sat opposite him over the table and Hannibal sat as he was asked.

“Ok. From the beginning. What is the last thing you remember?”

“Pain.”

Will frowned.

“Anything else?”

“I've never had all this.” Hannibal gestured to himself. “I've never been so soft and weak.”

“You are the strongest being I have ever met. No human body could have survived those wounds. Or that fall for that matter.”

“I don't remember falling. Just the pain and a feeling of blindness and humiliation.”

“You went blind?”

“I feel like I'm encased in this body. Before, it is hard to explain.” Will watched him close his eyes and concentrate. “I remember I had so many eyes and I felt only pleasure and serenity. I was always spinning and my siblings were joined with me in bliss.”

“I don't know what's happening to my life but this is rock bottom. Even weirder than the burning stags.”

“I'm sorry to have burdened you.”

“You're not a burden I just don't know what to do with you.” Will looked out of his kitchen window. “You say you've never had a body.”

“I have not.”

“That why you peed your pants earlier?” He eyed his guest carefully as Buster approached him. “And why you got all weird when I used the toilet?”

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah. Am I going to have to show you all these things? Do you know how to eat?”

Hannibal shook his head and watched dumbly as the little dog jumped into his lap.

“I am already in your debt. You have saved my life. To ask more of you would be shameful but I really have no where to go. I don't understand what is happening around me. Is this your child?”

“What? That's my dog. His name's Buster.”

“Hello.”

“He can't talk.”

“I can hear him.”

“Oh, yeah?”

Buster was crying softly at Hannibal and he responded by lifting the sorry terrier up onto the counter, helping him to eat from an open bag of kibble.

“Hey, don't to that.” Will yelled. Buster cowered and whined when he was set back down on the floor. “Why did you do that?”

“He wanted me to.”

“What? He's my dog, I say when he eats and where. He's not allowed on the counter and he just finished his dinner. Don't do that with people's pets. It's rude.”

Hannibal looked lost.

“Don't touch my dogs again. Understand?”

“I'm sorry.”

Will scrubbed his palms into his eyes and gathered himself.

“I'm going to make dinner. You can watch and then we can eat. Ok?”

“Yes.”

Soup had been a good idea. Will didn't know if Hannibal was able to use a knife and fork. He managed well enough with a spoon but it was still a messy affair.

“You like it?”

Hannibal had no mind for manners. He slurped and gulped down his dinner with wonder in his eyes. He made noises that had Will blushing, moans and grunts that woke the dogs.

“It's just fish stew. I make it all the time.”

“Thank you. I've never tasted anything before.”

“This is very strange for me, Hannibal.”

“Yes. I understand.”

“I'm not used to having strangers in the house.”

“I'm not a stranger. You have known me why whole life.”

“I suppose that's true.”

“What do we do now?”

“Well, after dinner I usually read.”

“May I watch you?”

“I guess.”

Will dumped their dishes in the sink and Hannibal followed him into the study. He picked out a book about birds. It seemed appropriate.

“What's that?”

“It's a book.” Will explained. “It has words inside and when I read those words, I form a story inside my mind. I can learn new things from books.”

“Oh. May I try one?”

“Sure.” Will handed him a book about dog anatomy. “Knock yourself out.”

Will sat back on the sofa and opened his book at the index.

Hannibal sat beside him and followed suit, opening the book at the back.

Will smirked but continued, looking up whatever basic information he could find about wing anatomy and how bird bones are formed.

Hannibal watched the process. Will turned pages quite often and so Hannibal turned them often too. He quickly became enraptured in his own book however as there were beautiful photos of dogs of all shapes and sizes on every page.

Will heard Hannibal gasp and looked over to see him astonished at the photo of a collie dog and then over to Max who had taken his spot by the fireplace.

“Your dogs are in this book.” Hannibal whispered.

“Yeah. I need to know how to care for them so I got a few books about dogs.”

“They are beautiful.”

Will smiled.

“I like them. They take care of me.”

Hannibal yawned and Will laughed at the confusion that passed over his face.

“You're tired.”

“Yes. I feel heavy.”

“Would you like to go to sleep?”

Hannibal nodded.

“I'll put you to bed.” Will shut his book and nodded for Hannibal to follow.

“I really mean it. This is the weirdest thing that's ever happened.” Will patted the bed and pulled the sheet open. “Get in.”

Hannibal laid on his front and rested his face on the pillow.

“I'll just check your back. Hold still.”

Will lifted Hannibal's shirt and saw the same wide scars from before. The stumps looked no worse and there was no discolouration or swelling.

“Will you stay with me?”

“Yeah. I'm gonna sleep in this chair.”

“Why?”

“Because you're sleeping in my bed.”

“There's enough room for us both, I think.”

“That's not going to happen.” Will chuckled.

“As you wish.”

The dogs, as one pack, drifted gently into the room and jumped onto the bed. They crowded around Hannibal, resting their heads on his legs and snuggling up under his arm.

“I'm sorry, you said not to touch them but they want to be on the bed very badly.”

Buster climbed up onto Hannibal's lower back and settled down to sleep on his behind.

Will sighed and opened his book once again.

–

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. I'm sorry. Let me know if you want more of this.
> 
> Revelation 4:8 "Each of the living creatures had wings and was covered with eyes all around, even under its wings. Day and night they never stop saying: “ ‘Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty,’who was, and is, and is to come."


End file.
